


Don't Tell Me If I'm Dying

by colorfulCheshire



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Prompt Fic, Violent Imagery Mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-01-27 21:56:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1723811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colorfulCheshire/pseuds/colorfulCheshire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[If I can't see the sun, maybe I should go.]</p><p>Tavros doesn't want to see Gamzee tear himself apart anymore, doesn't want to see him tear the universe apart.  It's hard to be there for his matesprit when death separates them, but he still tries his best.</p><p>Apparently trying isn't good enough, for either of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Tell Me If I'm Dying

**Author's Note:**

> acidicangels requested: The break up of your otp.
> 
> Seeing as she's my best friend, she also specified "the Capricorn/Taurus one" when I asked which one, and said that "no, you cannot kill them to break them up. It has to be a legit break up." Darn.

_“Gamzee, this- this has to stop . . .”_

_“What’s a motherfucker mean by that, Tavbro?”_

_“All of, well, uh, **this**.” The ghost of a troll gestured to the scene before him, decapitated heads and bodies of their departed friends strewn about the highblood’s newest artwork, his “prophecy” he called it. Tavros’ nutrition sack had lurched more at the grim illustration than the bodies – he was quite used to the corpses by now, at least._

_“A motherfucker is just all up and gettin' his followin’ on. Ain’t no harm done.”_

_“Gamzee . . .”_

_The look Tavros gave him would have been more scathing if not for his white eyes, devoid of any features save for the faint hint of dark irises that never got the chance to fill in with the color of adulthood. Gamzee slumped under the disapproving and concerned stare regardless, feeling like he had upset his matesprit, which is the last thing the purple-blood wanted._

_“Alright Tavbro, a motherfucker will all up and get his act clean. I didn’t wanna get my red brother upset.”_

_Gamzee knew what he was asking, knew that he needed to stop anyways before he got everyone else killed, but he wasn’t sure if he could stop. He would try for his Tavros, the most wonderful miracle to float in and out of his life as the meteor hurtled through dreambubbles made of miracles and death, but the messiahs, would they even let him? Maybe he could get his Lil’ Bro to all up and change his mind about all of this. Maybe he could let it go for Tavros._

_“Thank you, Gamzee,” he said with a smile, though even Gamzee could see that something was off, like it didn’t quite reach his blank eyes, but a smile was better than a frown, right? “And, uh, do you think you could, uh, clean all of this up before you sleep later? I can, uh, kind of smell the blood o-on you when you don’t.”_

_“Sure thing, Tavbro,” he replied instantly. However, his tired eyes fell to his prophecy with tired guilt, indicating the hesitation he felt about erasing the morbid artwork._

_Tavros saw this, feeling guilt of his own for asking so much of his matesprit, but he knew that he couldn’t sit by idly much longer. Everyone was in danger, and he didn’t want Gamzee to contribute to this mad game of a homicidal alien any longer, not when everyone, both dead and alive, was working so hard to make everything right, to prevent the end of everything. He couldn’t ask Gamzee to just forget his messiahs and the mission he believed in, but he could at least try to divert his attention until the voices in his head faded with the victory of the universes._

_“Thanks,” he offered, leaning down to kiss Gamzee’s painted cheek, a hand soft in tangles of dark hair to let him know that everything would be alright. “I gotta go now – you’re, uh, leaving the bubble. But maybe we can find something, uh, fun to do later when you get some sleep. M-maybe you should, uh, you know, go talk to your moirail when you get cleaned up?”_

_The living troll nodded quietly, leaning up to kiss Tavros’ warm wrist, taking it gently in his hands to kiss his fingers as well. He always hated these goodbyes, the spaces in-between bubbles and dreaming that left him with no one. He wouldn’t be going to see Karkat like Tavros asked – he never did. Everyone else hated him he was sure. At least, the teal motherfucker said as much when they fought. Karkat wouldn’t want to talk to him if he tried._

_Tavros smiled at him as the room around him grew clearer and less warm, signaling the end of their visit, and with a loud ‘pop’ the hazy edges of his empty room halted into clarity as Tavros disappeared, taking his warmth with him and leaving the room colder than how he found it._

_Gamzee dropped his head to his knees, eyes peeking out from above his arms to assess the mess around him. With a heavy sigh, he forced himself up and began cleaning, saving the bloody prophecy as long as possible before having to scrub that away with unwilling hands, dark whispers reprimanding him as he worked._

\---

It’s been four perigees since Gamzee has been able to sleep, meaning four perigees without his brown-blooded little miracle to keep him company in his lonely room deep within the bowels of the meteor. It’s far too hard to get any sleep with his Lil Bro whispering orders into his think pan to rattle around with the two voices telling him everything that he doesn’t want to hear. They haven’t been able to keep quiet once he stopped listening to their orders, stopped painting the walls with cold blooded depictions of dark carnivals and destruction.

So he smiles when he finally sees his flushed motherfucker leaning on the support of a sturdy rope bridge over the trees. The wide grin lights up his own white eyes, the dried blood cracking in red and teal fragments where his lips push his cheeks up. There’s a broken katana lodged in his back, but he doesn’t even notice as he steps onto the bridge with long legs and heavy, uncoordinated steps. He doesn’t recall his leg being broken in the final battle, but it doesn’t matter much, as long as he can make it to his Tavbro.

“Stop, Gamzee.” The voice comes out strong, tense – so very unlike his sweet, nervous matesprit that he loved so dearly. It makes him halt awkwardly, grabbing for the ropes to keep himself from toppling to the side as he just stares at Tavros with large, dead-white eyes.

“Tavbr-“

“S-shut up!” the shorter of the two interrupts, back straight with tension and blank eyes still focused on the pink tree tops beneath them, refusing to look at the recently deceased highblood.

“I . . . I could deal with not talking for perigees,” he begins quietly, voice low and containing a hint of anger, annoyance. “I thought you might have been angry, but . . . but I was okay with that if you were working on, on-“ he stops abruptly and turns to face Gamzee, hands balled into fists at his sides as he takes a deep breath.

“I _saw_ the battle, Gamzee. I saw what you did.” He doesn’t stutter, doesn’t avert his harsh stare.

Gamzee freezes, mouth falling open as a chill sinks into his bones. He swallows thickly and tries to take a step forward, tries to form some sort of explanation or apology.

“Tavbro, a motherfucker is all up an so-“

“I don’t care if you’re sorry!” the brown-blood snaps, interrupting Gamzee’s spill of shaking words with a voice raised louder than Gamzee’s ever heard with coherent words. Tavros takes another breath, the boards of the bridge creaking loudly in the wind during the silence between.

“I . . . I don’t want to hear your apologies, Gamzee. You- you chose the wrong side. You hurt our friends, hurt the humans, almost hurt the entire, well, the entire universe. I- I don’t want to hear your side. I’m sorry.” He seems suddenly tired, his eyes falling to the boards as his earlier conviction wavers from his words, as if he doesn’t want to be having this conversation at all. “B-but if I let you make, uh, excuses, or, uh, listen to your apologies, I . . .” he pauses, taking a deep breath and shaking his head as he starts over. “You can’t, uh, change my mind, Gamzee. And, uh, it’d be easier if you didn’t say anything.”

There’s a long silence in which Gamzee can do nothing but gape and try to form words before remembering that his Tavbro asked him not to apologize and those were the only words seeming to float to the surface of his mind over the ice forming inside his veins. He wants to motherfucking scream, but this is his Tavros, his matesprit (right?). He can’t all up and get his rage on at him, anyone but him.

“What are you all up and saying, Tavbro?” he finally manages, knowing the answer even as the words slip from his busted lips.

Tavros stands there without a word for a moment, white eyes trained to the bridge at their feet as the wind continues to blow past the two of them, the trees rustling softly beneath them. He finally looks up at him after what seems like a sweep and locks eyes with the taller troll.

“I’m saying, goodbye, Gamzee. Enjoy your afterlife.” He turns and walks away on steady legs, over the bridge and down the steps into the woods, not looking back on the devastated troll left behind, mouth hanging open in stupefied horror as purple-tinted tears line white eyes.


End file.
